Fallout: Texas
by solvable.sphinx
Summary: A story about an explorer and his companion as they journey through the now mythical land of Texas to discover what lies within its isolated borders.
1. Prologue

Standard disclaimer: The following is a piece of written entertainment created by the author known as fijkus, aka Solvable Sphinx, to an audience consisting of the fan community of the Fallout series of video-games and any other interested party. This story originates from and is updated at the Fallout:Texas thread in the Space Battle's Creative Writing forum. This story is hosted on this site as an 'archival version', so that new readers will not have to shift through the initial write-up of this story or the conversation between snippets.

_Fallout: Texas_ is not associated with Bethesda Softworks, Obsidian Entertainment, any other past or current intellectual property holder, or any other fan work which uses the title _Fallout: Texas_ or takes place in Texas. Use of the _Fallout_ name, setting, characters and concepts associated with the _Fallout_ brand are used in accordance with the currently understood accepted fair use guidelines of the IP holders in mind. The author retains claim over his own original ideas, concepts, characters, and so forth.

This work is not created to incite political action or to criticize or endorse any government, political party, religion, creed, etc.. It is written within the context of a fictional alternate history influenced by American popular culture during the Cold War, both for good and ill. This work is, first, foremost and always, as a piece of entertainment set within an alternate timeline.

Please contact the author if you wish to use his concepts or ideas in associated fan work, such as videogame mods, artwork, stories, etc.

* * *

**Prologue**

War… war never changes.

At the root of all war is conflict. Ever since man formed into primitive bands, he has been in conflict with his fellow man. The reason for this conflict varied, from such basic necessities as food and water, to control over a piece of land and its inhabitants, to ideology and even simple pride. Sometimes man could halt conflict, by negotiating treaties, enacting laws, banding together with tolerable groups, or by simply running away to a piece of land too far and too remote to be worth the bother. No matter the measure, conflict eventually ensues.

Seeking to prevent conflict from within, the member states of the old United States formed a new kind of union: the Commonwealths. It was believed that by voluntarily dividing the continent spanning nation into smaller confederacies based on geography and culture that each one could better serve the needs of its member states without interfering in the affairs of other regions of the nation.

Yet in preventing conflict the Commonwealths proved disastrous. Each one fought for its interests at the expense of the other on the political battlefield. And as resources became used up, they were unable to put together a united front against those who would send civilization into oblivion. As nuclear fire swept across the old world, its conflicts were put to rest while new, more basic conflicts rose up in their place.

Because war… war never changes.

You are an explorer, sent from the eastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel to discover what lies in the now mythical land of Texas. Out of your initial party, only four have survived the dangerous trek through the South. Yet you were separated from half of your remaining party by radioactive tornados and the treacherous waters of the Green River.

Now, with only your companion and what supplies you could scavenge, you set out to explore a strange new land.

* * *

…Loading Screen Slide…

**_The Austin-Texian Statesman_**

**_May 4, 2058_**

**Martial Law Declared In Texas**

(NP) Austin, Texas, Texas Commonwealth- Riots resulting from the shooting deaths of a dozen University of Texas students at the hands of US National Guardsmen has prompted the President Ferguson of the Texas Commonwealth to declare martial law, over the objection of Gov. Oran Ellsworth of Texas.

"While it is unfortunate that the Austin school shooting occurred, we cannot use it as an excuse to commit other crimes. Especially while we are attempting a police action with our unstable neighbor to the south," Pres. Ferguson stated at a press conference.

Even though Gov. Ellsworth has come under increasing suspicion from the federal government for his opposition to the war with Mexico, as well as his father's status as a Mexican immigrant and membership to the anti-war Mormon church, he remains popular with the Texas people. In a true tragedy, his son Joseph Ellsworth was in the protest while another of his sons, SPC-5 Brigham Ellsworth, was a member of the 413th Military Police company which fired into the crowd.

"I am proud that my son Joseph was peacefully engaging in the political process, as well as Brigham's service to our nation. Neither of those are in doubt," Gov. Ellsworth said. "But the National Guard should never have been used as a riot squad against students."

_See __**Martial Law **__on page 5A_

* * *

…Game hint…

_The Barony of New Braunfield is a small German speaking nation to the south of the Commonwealth. Although their cavalry is disciplined and highly mobile, they lack the technological superiority of their northern neighbors._


	2. Chapter 1: And the clothes on your back

"I know you're going to hate me for saying this, but I'm pretty sure at this point life isn't supposed to be easy," Robert said, as he continued to walk forward.

The years of hard travel and fighting had taken its toll on both him and his companion, a small Asian woman named Jessica. They both grew up in the brotherhood, but Jessica had taken the path of the scribe while he decided to help the Capitol Wastes in a more militant way.

"Easy for you… to say… Wonder Bread," Jessica groaned out from in front of him. She called him Wonder Bread because he was so pale, but exposure to the elements made them both an uncomfortable shade of burnt red. She had the worst of it, though. Some people resist radiation better than others, and it's hard to tell who will be stronger until it actually happens. So far Jessica was baring the poisonous world outside of the Capitol Wastes a lot better than most of their former party, but she was still more vulnerable than Robert.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that we aren't going to die out here," Robert said. Even though he said that, his vision began to blur. He had been pushing Jessica for miles to keep her from exhausting herself to death, but they had to find some form of aid soon. They were out of food and fresh water, and needed medication.

"No, Wonder Bread. I'm pretty sure," Jessica coughed then, but continued. "I'm pretty sure our luck's going to run out at some point."

"I don't think its luck," Robert replied.

"Getting religious on me?" Jessica asked.

"Maybe," Robert replied. "Escaping death a lot tends to do that to people. But right now, I'm more concerned with those houses over there."

"What houses?" Jessica asked, before looking forward. Before here was what appeared to be a small, though decently sized, village. "This can only end well."

"Are you saying that sarcastically, or do you mean it?" Robert asked.

"Does it even matter at this point?" Jessica replied. With that Robert began to push them towards the nearest house.

"Oh, well lookee here! Two lost travelers! Come over here, let old TK take a good look at you!" The old farmer with welding glasses yelled.

"I don't like this," Jessica said quietly.

"You haven't liked a lot of things since we left home," Rober replied.

"Because there are not a lot of things to like outside of home! There barely…" Jessica coughed right then, but she kept going. "There barely was anything to like at home as it was."

"Jessica, we're going to talk to the farmer. Worst he can do at this point is pull a gun on us," Robert replied, before walking to the farmer. "Hello over there! We're looking for shelter and medice!"

"Well, I can lead you to plenty of both! But before I do that…" the farmer replied with a chuckle, before he reached to the side of his rocking chair and pulled up a double barrel shot-gun. "Are you bandits… or vault hunters?"

"Dammit Robert," Jessica muttered, before yelling at the farmer. "What the hell is a vault hunter?!"

"Oh, don't you give me that! I specifically sit on the South porch, so you can't be travelers from some distant lands!" the farmer yelled, before holding his gun up menancingly. Or it would be, if it wasn't pointed forty five degrees to the left of the handcart.

"Your… weird ground balcony thing is facing north," Jessica yelled, before coughing some more.

"Sir, do you have a place where we could sit or lay down?" Robert asked.

"The ground in front of this house," the farmer said. "You aren't coming in thieving from Old TK, no siree bob!"

"OK, good," Robert said, as the world began to spin around him. "I'm going to pass out now."

"Oh no Wonder Bread! Don't you dare! Don't you dare pass out on me…"

* * *

To be born in these times is to be born in a transient world. At first things move slowly, survivors find those who would not necessarily stab the other in the back and form into nomadic bands. Those bands who had some form of organization could acquire resources, and would grow into the first institutions of a new world. Militant fraternal societies, trader syndicates, small villages and city states, even altruistic religions and philosophical movements would be formed by these organizations.

When these organizations pulled together, when they have actually felt each other out and decided upon cooperation, it was possible to form what a Pre-War human would recognize as a proper nation. Of course those that did were not nearly so centralized as civilization at the end, but considering the madness that came with the death throes of the Old World it might well be for the best.

But these were delicate times. From what the Brotherhood knew, only in the West did proper nations rule and war with one another, trying to establish supremacy and gather resources for domination. The East still consisted of loose bands of minor powers. They were still peers, and laid the groundwork for mighty things to come about if a person was in the right place at the right time. From what the survivors of the Texas expedition saw, the South was still a patchwork of communities and roaming tribes trying to find subsistence while petty warlords vied for power among the starving masses.

The room seemed to swirl and shake a little as Robert tried to get up. Of course, the fact that he was in an actual room surprised the man. He could faintly hear something, and as his awareness came back to him he noticed just what it was.

A radio of all things.

"And now a word from our sponsors_…_" the accented male voice on the radio said, before the music changed and another person began talking. "_Times are hard. The modern nations are preparing for war, and those who live in the borderlands have to deal with bandits, cannibals, perverts, and other unsavory sorts. Times are hard, money's tight, and you want a serious home defense solution that will be there when you need without having to take out a loan that entitles the loaner to one of your limbs._

"_Vault-Tec is here to help. With our new line of lightweight, affordable weapons you will have the firepower you need when you need it. Talk with an authorized retailer or merchant caravan for our generous micro-financing options so that you'll receive the weapon you need tomorrow today._

"_Vault-Tec: Preparing for an imperfect future right now_."

"Oh good, you're up," another voice with a similar accent said. "You were in a coma for five days. We thought that we were going to loose you."

Robert looked to the source, which was near the door. It belonged to a young black woman, one who was wearing a light yellow plaid shirt in the pre-war western style, as well as denim jeans. Without anything else to go on, Robert asked the question which seemed most appropriate.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "Folks call me Doc Rose. I'm the sawbones around here, and the closest thing we have to trained medical doctor." Her deminor seemed to change a little bit. "Your war buddy was in better shape than you, but the damage to her internal systems are more long term. It'll take you a week or two to get back into shape. It'll take her months."

Robert nodded, seeming to take the detail in. The woman proved herself a doctor when her compassion became mixed with a hard edge that would not yield. She took a chair, one of the items in the room, and dragged it next to him, sitting down. "It was a mighty decent thing of you to do, taking care of her and pushing her around in that hand cart. But you pushed yourself too damn far and almost died for it. Last thing we need in this scorched Earth is another dead hero."

Robert laid back against in the bed. "You realize that my traveling companion is going to chew me out, right?"

The woman nodded. "Of course she is, and rightly so. But you did save her, so I'm not going to press it any further. So, you from Old DC?"

"DC?" Robert asked.

"Washington?" the woman asked, earning another blank look. "The capitol of the old United States before the birds went up and blew us all to hell?"

"Oh, the Capitol Wasteland," Robert replied, finally realizing what she said. "Yeah, I'm from there."

"There are stories from out West, but never the East. Roslyn will be happy to see you," Doc Rose replied. She grimaced a little bit. "You don't have a problem with ghouls or mutants, do you?"

It was Robert's turn to grimace. "A few. But if they aren't trying to kill me, I let it slide. So then Roslyn's a ghoul?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes she is. She's the teacher at the school house, and probably the best educated person in the Republic. Scholars from all over come to visit her, and her books are well read," those facts impressed Robert greatly, before Doc Rose scooted a little closer as though sharing a secret. "We think it's the stimulation that's kept her going since the Nuclear Rapture. She has a wonderful heart, but you know how it is the elderly. Sometimes they mix people up."

It struck Robert as odd that this village would be treating a ghoul as some sort of senile matronly figure, but if she was around since the Great War and continued to carry her knowledge with her he could see how it made a certain amount of sense. "I'll try to be careful around her," he said. He wasn't going to be making any promises that he might not be able to keep.

"That's all we ask," Doc Rose said. "I'll go ahead and get you some food. Your teeth appear to be in good shape, but we'll have to start you up on soups. Then you _rest_. Hell, listen to the radio if you can't sleep, that's what it's there for. But get some sleep before the nights through. After that you get have visitors."

The doctor then began to walk out, just as quickly as she came. He now knew that Jessica was alright. He also knew a ghoul would probably be seeing him, and as strange as the natives might be he needed to show it proper respect. It was then that Robert realized that he had a question of his own.

"Where am I?"

"Sour Springs, in the New Republic. Welcome to Texas."

* * *

There was soup, as promised. And as promised, Robert tried to rest. His sleep came in fits, though. When the only thing that broke up the sound of your thoughts was the radio, eventually you stop realizing that the noise is even there.

His dreams were filled with old faces. Old battles. Old horrors. Old friends and family dying one by one from raiders, slavers, and things he had never dreamed of in the fetid swamps and disease infested forests that had claimed the Southern US. Robert had seen Alaska syndrome in plenty of men, and when he was awake he could see Alaska syndrome in himself.

One time when he woke, it was day light, and a man was standing at his door. The man was dressed well, in a cowboy hat and a duster, with some sort of indigenous combat armor sewn into his clothes. He was also very old, the lines in his face being more than simply the effects of hard living and high radiation.

"You look like a man with the Old World Blues," the older man said.

"I wouldn't know what that is," Robert said. He felt a bit more strength, sitting in the bed. "I don't have enough time to think about the Old World. Just the people I lost on this mission."

"The Doc said you were part of some church in the East," the older man said, taking a seat in the room.

"Not a church. The Brotherhood of Steel. I am from the Capitol Wasteland chapter of the Brotherhood, and we are dedicated to the preservation of technology and human life," Robert said. "We were under orders to explore Texas and make contact with any Brotherhood chapters, or failing that any local equivalent."

"And you're telling me this because…"

"I've got nothing," Robert said. "Only Jessica. If she's still alive like the doctor says."

"Still alive and cursin' God, Buddha an' Oppenheimer every chance she gets," the man replied with a smile under his thick moustache, before frowning a little bit. "She's in a bad spot, though. Nearly went ghoul from the radiation. She'll probably have a mutation or two."

Robert took a moment to take that in. As a member of the Brotherhood he hated mutations, though many locals they recruited has one or two. However as Jessica was the living person he had left from his last life Robert decided that he simply stopped giving a damn.

"Can I see her?" Robert asked.

"In a bit," the old man replied. "I can see its going to take a while to settle in. I'll be downstairs when you need me. I got clothes, and work, if your gun arm is as good as your ladyfriend says it is."

"Well, if I'm going to be taking work from you, can I at least know your name?" Robert ask. The older man laugh.

"Why, I'm so famous around these parts I forget that there are folks left who don't me. I'm Captain Judge King of the Texas Rangers. I don't know about the Brotherhood, but if you're looking for a lawman, then we're the best you got."

* * *

_In game hint: Originally founded as a colonial defense force, the Texas Rangers survives today as an international peacekeeping and law enforcement organization._


End file.
